*Wrong zodiac, Clicky… May ’67 would make me a ‘Fire Sheep‘…*
I guess this post should start with a Twitter DM convo with Poppy SweetPea, who gave me a story idea for ‘The Underdog Anthology 2: “Rise!” *…/SOBs…*‘…
The Easter edition won’t have a subtitle, that’s just my own fancy. Like I had for the first…
Anyhoo, I hadn’t given any more thought to Poppy’s ‘Killer Sheep’ suggestion until I read a comment by Elena yesterday evening, over in the Red Universe…
The day was enthusiastically celebrated among the common people with picnics, drinking, and revelry. One source from late antiquity also places the Mamuralia on the Ides of March. This observance, which has aspects of scapegoat or ancient Greek pharmakos ritual, involved beating an old man dressed in animal skins and perhaps driving him from the city. The ritual may have been a new year festival representing the expulsion of the old year.
Hmm, I thought, I’ve just seen a chap matching that description…
And read elsewhere about his possible scapegoating…
The Deep State’s next move is to pin the coming stock market collapse on Trump. When people think “Greater Depression,” they’ll think “Donald Trump.”
This morning, Frank Davis of the Blue Universe was ‘reflecting‘ on a smoking and drinking politician, the first from the UK to meet with the Prez (then elect)…
“I was especially pleased at his very positive reaction to the idea that Sir Winston Churchill’s bust should be put back in the Oval Office.”
Then to my surprise, I was advised to ‘Chill Winston’ by one of my favourite trolls in the Yellow Universe today
Whilst twittering with Hugo, he sent me a link to a story written by a Clemmie, about a dead girl called RuthTurner, who talks to her celeb sibling via psychics…
‘Tis true, mediums may facilitate convos with her dear departed sis (15), but Physics warned Anthea (56) about her husband’s philandering with Zoe (27) a socialite…
Poor Anthea’s career trajectory had taken a sharp downward turn from the zenith of ‘TV Golden Girl’ after she sold out on her wedding day to a Snowflake.
The psychic story has already been updated once, and Physics remains, so it can’t possibly be a typo 😉
TUESDAY AFTERNOON
I received a missive from the Okie Devil that includes a famous physicist’s diagram. Had a bit trouble with Clicky… The lest said the better… But was also interested to hear Cade talk about ESP…
Um…no. I am not saying that. You said that. That said, I don’t think that ESP is what most people think it is. I think that it is much more complicated, detailed and complex than simply…ESP. But then again, I see both the “scientific” and “religious” sides of such a concept, and I see much much more than one or the other.
EXAMPLE: Have you ever been outside on a nice day, irrespective of the weather type/conditions. and just been like…”HELL FUCKING YEAH!!! WHAT AN AWESOME PLANET!!!”?
To me, that is ESP as much as anything. It’s almost as if God/The gods/The Universe is asking you…
“So…whadda ya think?” And then, give you a little wink…;-)
That feeling of being alive. NOT self-awareness…I’m talking about something else entirely. That feeling that NOTHING matters in this moment except the moment itself. Just you, and that moment, and all that came together over the history of histories, and over the time of times….just to make that one perfect moment for you. It’s almost as if God him or herself dropped by in that moment, just to say hi. No worries, no birth, no death, just…now.
Those moments last forever eh?
To me, that is just one form of what could be called ESP.
The Creator’s love is something that we tell ourselves we cannot understand.
But sometimes, we understand it just fine.
Fucking-A and Hells Bells and all that shit! Prayer is ESP if you ask me.
But no one is asking me.
Unless they are.
*Oh yeah, Clicky, Clemmie’s short for Clementine… Someone specifically mentioned that name… /thinks… When was it, Sunday?*
*And Hugo just published his story about Nazi bunnies…*
*Well yeah, Clicky, most of the characters are rabbits… /raises hand and points… Don’t start…*
Later in the evening I posted a couple of knot-eyes over on Red Frank’s MEROVEE. Head of the European Central Bank, Mario Draghi, and a number of Italian politicians had been hacked by a ‘high-ranking Mason‘, and the breathless ‘news’ out of CNN and Buzzfeed that Donald Trump had procured himself some showers.
WEDNESDAY MORNING
Blue Frank put up a new post that featuring not only a Mason playing a high-ranking Nazi, but also a Monty…
Ah the Nazis, supreme coiners of the euphemisms like ‘Passivrauchen‘ (‘Secondhand Smoke’), you just can’t beat them… Quite literally it seems, as news of the growing menace of ‘Secondhand Sugars’ was announced to the world…
Just when you think the stupid can't get any worse. NEVER think the stupid can't get any worse. https://t.co/CAjXS0jWuA
Last night, and again today, Red Universe Frank made comment about Captain Oates of the ill-fated Scott expedition to reach the South Pole, together with a clip from Stanley Kubrick’s ‘The Shining’…
… Meanwhile Blue Universe Frank penned another fine essay on the group of people who were ordered to go outside on 1st July 2007…
*It’s certainly gonna be sometime before I venture back inside a pub, Clicky…/takes angry puff…*
… And this week I watched film by another great film Director, Oliver Stone…
Oh course, I heard about Edward Snowden, read and posted about the whistleblower at the time he outed himself, but was especially taken with a pivotal scene in the movie. One where he decisively steps outside…
GUARD 1: Hey!
SNOWDEN: Did you ever play with one of these?
GUARD 1: Yeah when I was a kid.
SNOWDEN: Yeah. You should try it. It’s hard.
GUARD 1: I can’t figure this out.
GUARD 2: I don’t know about this.
SNOWDEN: You’ve got to start with the white cross actually and then you do the corners.
GUARD 1: Ahh… Oh man look, I love these things. Hey, have a good weekend.
SNOWDEN: You too buddy.
*What does he remind you off, Clicky? …/lights up… The kid from ‘Third Rock From the Sun’… As he’s walking out…*
*/stubs butt… Knot the other one?*
*Yeah…*
*/shrugs… Suit yourself… /Checks time… Shit! It’s nearly time for ‘Sherlock’, Clicky… *
Due to unforeseen, technical reasons, Dear Reader, this shamble is now terminating… Many Apol! Loogies…
Dear Reader, this past month has been a most peculiar one…
wibble (v.) 1871, from wibble-wobble (1847), a colloquial reduplication of wobble (v.).
*I don’t think it’s just me, Clicky… Others have been feeling peculiartoo…*
wobble (v.) 1650s, wabble, probably from Low German wabbeln “to wobble;” cognate with Old Norse vafla “hover about, totter,” related to vafra “move unsteadily,” from Proto-Germanic *wab- “to move back and forth,” perhaps from PIE *webh- “to weave” (see waver). Form with -o- is from 1851. Related: Wobbled; wobbling. The noun is attested from 1690s.
*Interesting! Tell me, did you look at the possible… probably root of the word ‘wobble‘, Clicky?
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
[Stevie Smith]
*I posted a comment about ‘the hand wavers’ yesterday at The Slog …/looks perplexed… Oh it still doesn’t seem to have appeared…*
*Bugger! … /sad face… How disappointing, Clicky… I pointed out how smokers are right here in front everyone’s faces, but people are conditioned to wave both us and our grievances away… It was awfully clever in a “Can you see what it is yet?” sort of way… I mean, it’s not white, heterosexuals of sound mind who are bearing the brunt of the bans… Although we, too, are affected, rich and poor…*
*Mind you,JaxtheFirstmade an very interesting observation last night., Clicky.. how the Anti Smoking hand-wavers have distanced themselves with their hatred and intolerance… This ‘War on Tobacco’ they’ve been waging for these past 400 years… /clucks dismissively… Are they waving-waving or waving-drowning?*
warble (v.) late 14c., from Old North French werbler “to sing with trills and quavers” (Old French guerbloiier), from Frankish *werbilon (cognate with Old High German wirbil “whirlwind,” German Wirbel “whirl, whirlpool, tuning peg, vertebra,” Middle Dutch wervelen “to turn, whirl”); see whirl (v.). Related: Warbled; warbling. The noun is recorded from late 14c.
laud (v.)”praise highly, sing the praises of,” late 14c., from Old French lauder “to praise, extol,” from Latin laudare “to praise, commend, honor, extol, eulogize,” from laus (genitive laudis) “praise, fame, glory.” Probably from an echoic PIE root *leu- and cognate with Old English leoð “song, poem, hymn,” from Proto-Germanic *leuthan (source also of Old Norse ljoð “strophe,” German Lied “song,” Gothic liuþon “to praise”). Related: Lauded; lauding.
nose (v.)”perceive the smell of,” 1570s; “pry, search,” 1640s, from nose (n.). Related: Nosed; nosing.
watt (n.) unit of electrical power, 1882, in honor of James Watt (1736-1819), Scottish engineer and inventor. The surname is from an old pet form of Walter and also is in Watson.
Walter masc. proper name, from Old North French Waltier (Old French Gualtier, Modern French Gautier), of Germanic origin and cognate with Old High German Walthari, Walthere, literally “ruler of the army,” from waltan “to rule” (see wield) + hari “host, army” (see harry). Walter Mitty (1939) is from title character in “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” by U.S. short story writer James Thurber (1894-1961).
*******
Sunday evening and all was quiet in the Library: Thoughtful Man was out working the mean streets of Southend; Things 1 & 2 were busy online making war and making friends, and our living, breathing hot water bottle was diligently practicing for any future, upcoming Sleep event at the Olympics. Poppy lay curled, molded around my backside, under my thick woolen cardie, snoozing and warming the small of my back. I’ve often mused how, dooshounds are more feline than canine. Well, ours is anyway.
Chores completed for the day (at least until the return of a weary Thoughtful Man), I was luxuriating in space and time, skipping through universes that I access via my book, listening to pictures and feeling out the sharp edge of words in conversations.
I wasn’t alone: Clicky was with me, of course, accompanied by the dynamic duo, Cath Fine and her significant other Nick O’Teen. All remained steadfastly to hand as I flitted and floated, fleetly fleed and flied, feeling roam free.
The telephone rang, causing Poppy to poke a curious nose out from under the cardigan she was using as a tent.
“Alright darling?” Thoughtful Man voice piped through, “I’ve just dropped off in Laindon and thought I’d come home now.”
I wasn’t disappointed: Laindon is a good fare. “Okay sweetie. We’ll have dinner when you get back.”
“Yeah, I won’t be long. Listen,” he paused, ” I’ve had an idea for a smoker you can write your next post about.”
I was momentarily nonplussed; Thoughtful Man doesn’t usually read my wibblings. “What? Who?”
“Slush,” he said. Now I was really confused and repeated the name back to him.
“No, Slash. The guitarist from Guns N’ Roses,” he replied.
I thought for a moment and tried to picture the personage in my mind. “Curly black hair, wears sunglasses and top hat?”
“That’s the one,” Thoughtful Man confirmed. “He smokes on stage, sticks his cigarette in end of his guitar. There’s bound to be lots of photos of him smoking.”
I took a drag of Nick and a slurp of Cath, and briefly pondered his suggestion. Clicky, always quick off the mark, got busy. “But you don’t like Guns n Roses,” I answered. Well, he doesn’t.
“No, but I think you should do one on somebody that’s not dead. Look we’ll talk about it when I get home. Do you fancy pizza?”
Pizza! I crossed ‘washing up’ off my mental list of potential future chores, happily agreed with his suggestion, and rang off after an embarrassing number of ‘byes’ that’s really more associated with first flush of romance rather than 26 years into a stretch.
“Pizza?” came the mournful voice of Thing 1 from the darkened nook of the Library, “Can’t we have Chinese?”
*******
Dear Reader, I’m not gonna do Slash. He gave up smoking in 2009 after his mum died. He fails the ‘Bravery’ criteria. But I do like the idea of profiling somebody alive… Thoughtful Man, a firm anti-monarchist, will probably hate me for this butt…
Okay, okay, I freely admit, he’s no Barry Sheene, but he is alive and still smoking, and as for the fifth criteria, well, he did cause an interesting stink…
*I dunno, Clicky, it’s a bit weak… /bites nail… And Thoughtful Man really doesn’t like royalty… /spits… It could all hinge on the Song… What do you reckon?*
A shadow hovered about me. I slide the headphones off my ears and attempted to look up.
“What’s up Kitty?” I asked, still dragging my eyes away from my PC screen. I’d been talking to Hugo, reading and listening to music.
“So, the fish was just in the sink, already broken, when you went in to brush your teeth?” I asked a pensive looking Kitten. “Okay, then, that is weird. Have you picked up all the pieces and put them aside? Dad might be able to fix it.”
He looked relieved. “Yeah. I told you, it was weird. You like weird stuff.” Kit Kat gave me a fancy bow and a wave…
*A bit more Rimmer, Clicky… /thinks… Like he was doing me a favour… How the fuck do you describe that? Thanks anyway… /pats snout…*
“Goodnight, mother dearest.”
“Do I have to go to bed?” Loopy called over, without breaking from his battle with a hoard of pixelated whatevers.
“No, you can stay up with me. You’re on holiday this week, remember?” I told him.
“Cool.”
Kit Kat and I synchronised eye rolls – Loopy would sit in that chair forever, if we let him. I kissed the top of Kitten’s head ‘goodnight’, and he left for bed.
*******
FRIDAY 28th October 2016 – between about 1600h to 1611h
Conversation between Roo B Doo and son Kitty Doo about where fought/thought/fault/fort/forte lies…
“But technically, it wasn’t me. It was gravity. I just gave it a little nudge.”
*******
THURSDAY – AFTERNOON
Thoughtful Man was sitting at his computer and I at mine. All was peaceful in the Library as I started to read the latest post from my good friend, Cade. I’d only got to the bit about inserting the lie, when I remembered…
*Yes, Clicky, that clown… Don’t do that! You’ll make me lose my concentration…*
“Shit! I forgot to tell you,” I told Thoughtful Man. I rushed upstairs to see Kit Kat. He was doing whatever teenage boys do in their bedrooms. I always knock… well you never know…
*Clicky, stop trying to distract me… Writing…*
“Where’s that fish you broke? Come show it to Dad. He might be able to fix it.”
Kitten was lounging in his Captain’s chair and got up begrudgingly, as teenage boys are want to do. He collected the fish pieces from the bathroom, handed them over and then followed me back downstairs, with a gracelessness that only 15 year old boys can truly muster.
“This fish…” I turned the body of the fish over in my hands and stopped. “Oh, it says made in Mexico. Did we buy this in Grenada or Phoenix? I thought it was Grenada.” I passed the broken pieces across to Thoughtful Man.
“Arizona,” he replied, attempting to fit them together. Part of the head had smashed off and a fin. He inserted the few straggler shards and held it up for inspection. “Traveled a long way, this fish to come live with us. Yeah, I’ll glue that back together. How did it happen?”
I felt Kit Kat stiffen from across the room, where he was taking a suspiciously long pause in the doorway…
*He wasn’t smoking! Clicky, please, go do something else…*
“Oh it’s really weird,” I explained to Thoughtful Man. “The other night when Kit Kat went to brush he teeth, he found it, broken in the sink. An earthquake is a more likely than it spontaneously leap of faith, wouldn’t you say, Kitty?”
I turned to my son, inviting him to give his opinion on the flying/jumping/shaking fish phenomenon he’d tried to palm me off with the other night.
Kitten looked at me before answering. “It was really weird,” the Boy That Breaks Things offered his father with a shrug and knowing smile.
*******
THURSDAY – AFTER MIDNIGHT
Kit Kat slouched into the Library and sat in Thoughtful Man’s chair.
“Mum, do you want anything from the kitchen?” he asked me. He’s always been thoughtful like that, especially if he wants something in return. Usually food.
“No thanks. Listen, come over here.” I beckoned him over to show him the image I’d created. “I’m writing a LoL post for you, ‘cos I wrote Loobie one, the other day,” I said brightly.
He sat on the arm of my big chair and gave a nod. “S’okay. You writing a post for me? Am I in it?”
“Will you read it?” I asked him.
“I don’t like reading,” he countered. He can be brutally honest went he wants to be.
“Then that’s your punishment for breaking my fish.” I pushed him off my armrest and he returned to his father’s seat. “I’ll tell you what, though, you provide me with three things, any three random things, and I’ll include them in it.”
“Accidentally broke your fish, which is actually my fish because you gave it to me for my toothbrush.” Kit Kat sighed, resigned to playing along to make me happy. He thought for a bit. “It’s about a cheaply made fish that I accidentally broke, so… The first thing is a really expensive fish…”
*******
Friday 28th October – Middayish, an hour after getting up
Opens unsolicited email from MJM, friend from the Blue and Y’Ello Universes.
Ninth email, from Frank, friend from the Red Universe, in an electronic missive chain discussing… well, that’s between him and me but it involves some of characters of the MEROVEE crew… They’re a fun crowd…
Kit Kat’s ‘I-really-couldn’t-care-less’ concentration was suddenly broken by the entrance of a mad dooshund, wrestling with a limpish sock from side to side. It had been quietly lying in the dirty laundry pile.
“Poppy! Let that go, let that go,” Loopy cried, springing up from his chair and attempted to gently prise the white material from the jaws of certain shaken death. “Come on, Poppy, give it to me.”
“And a sock!” Kit Kat exclaimed. “Expensive fish, Benjamin Franklin and a sock,” he finished with a flurry that matched jerky movements of the reluctantly dancing sock…
*Oh for gawd’s sake… /looks skywards…*
“Yes. This sock,” Loopy stated, giving me the sopping wet item before returning to his chair with our darling Popstar for a licky cuddle.
“Okay,” I said, putting the sock down and grabbing my headphones. “Anything else?”
Kitten looked at me thoughtfully. “Yeah, can you remind dad that my game comes out tomorrow?”
“Oh, I’m sure he already knows,” I said. “You’ve been heralding its arrival every bloody day since your birthday.”
*Ha! He saves his money and look at the fuck off size book it comes with, Clicky… /sighs at the irony… He’s never gonna read all that… /looks around… What’s left to do?*
*A Song? Nah, I don’t think it’s finished yet… Hey! Where are you going? Don’t piss off now… /huffs… Fuck it… /lights up, sits back, smokes…*
I was between the Library and the room containing the fridge and cooker when Loopy called out.
“Yes, but first I’m turning on some lights and then I’m going upstairs to pee. Why?” I said, stopping in the doorway and clicking on the overhead light.
Loops in naked, teenage hairiness (except for pants – wear knot animals 😉 ), glided round into view. He was sitting in his Captain’s gaming chair, whilst Poppy lay sleeping along the length of his long, lanky legs. He languidly caressed her back, to which she responded with low, contented snores.
“Can I have a sandwich?” he asked with the innocence of 21st century Oliver Twist.
Thoughtful Man was out; however, earlier we’d decided secretly between the two of us – after a short but satisfying cuddle, before he got into the bath I’d thoughtfully drawn him – that he’d bring KFC home, when he finished work. I’d licked my lips at his whispered suggestion, and told him “Yes please.”
“Dad will probably bring something home with him later,” I told Loopy, knowing exactly how much food my children can put away over the course of a day. “What kind of sandwich?”
Loops eyed me coolly, his hand lingering over Poppy’s soft, velvety ears. “Pigeon.”
“I’m fresh out of pigeon,” I replied with a sagacious squint. “You can have ham.”
*******
*Clicky! Where’s that video clip Loops showed me… /lifts up cushions… You know, the funniest pigeon video I said he could use as the filling…*
*/peers behind curtains… Oh, I don’t know, it’s gotta be hear sumwear…*
*******
Dear Reader, it’s been a lovely Sunday. No cooking, minimal ironing (half-term next week. Yay!). Clicky and I have had such fun today, frolicking around the universes. Perhaps we’ve seen you there 😉
Regardless, we hope you’ve also had a good day. Have a Song…
*Thank you, Clicky… /pats snout… Now pass me a rollie…*
*Past, Clicky. I heard it back in my youthful daze… /:O… Released on 7th September? That’s Thoughtful Man’s birthday! I didn’t know that fact when the Song popped into my head… /thinks… sew this means that information about my past was in my future… /grins sheepishly… I can quite see why you get confused…*
*Whoa! Did you see that?!*
*Where?*
*Ha! An English Garden variety? No I… /squint… knot-eyes the Wooley connection to my PPE… Um, it’s knit and… /mind stutter… wear, ware, where?*
*/sighs… Yes, the original Song, for me anyway, Clicky… For this synchronicity…/thinks… doo–ray–me–far–sew–la–T…qui… malarky. That’s the closest word I can think of to describe it…*
*Indeed… Hey! Today I became the 137th follower of a chap on Twitter… he’s a geodeticamong other things… Could be useful… I just had to look that up… Look, I took a selfie…*
*He’s visited the LoLbefore, Clicky… I don’t know why I didn’t follow him on the Y’elloRiver before…*
*Well, to be fair, that LoL post was inspired my crazy dooshund, rather than a wolf…*
*That’s a bit binary, isn’t it Clicky? What about a grey wolf? Still, Princess Ploppy certainly is well fed… Ah! …/slaps forehead… That’s why the Song popped into my head! I remember… first I was in theBlueUniverse… then paid avisitto the, er,Red…*
*Well, you know that, and I know that, Clicky… /lights umpteenth rollie… Methinks this post is a tad too big… /blows smoke… Shall we leave Dear Reader to it and have a Song?*
*There you are! /taps foot… I got back really quickly. Where have you been, Clicky?
*RedFranks? I left you at BlueFranks… Clicky, dinner is about to arrive and Thoughtful Man and I have ‘Suicide Squad’ to watch… I wanted to write this post before he got home from work… /wrings hands… *
*Chocolate? You think you can get round me with… chocolate? /takes both… Delicious… Damn, did you hear that?*
*That’s Thoughtful Man pulling up now… Okay, Clicky, laters…*
*Oh yeah, fuck… the Debate… That was fucking excellent…*
*Hey! Have you been wearing my Rubedo mask again, Clicky? I was asleep 49 minutes ago… I know, I still have the taste in my mouth… /lights another… Better…*
*Oh yeah, owls… or is that ‘owls?*
*Alright, let me get myself together, Clicky… /yawns… I think I’ll have another coffee… /stop hand sign… It’s okay, darling, I’ll do it…*
*******
Owls, Dear Reader. MEROVEEFrank mentioned owls in his last (sew above)…
… And puzzles and that’s exactly what PetesQuiz wrote about putting ‘the pieces of the jigsaw together’ in the ‘sew below’ at BlueFrank’s follow up to his ‘Defining the Future’ earlier on today…
*I know! How did he know I was going to use from TBBT in this post?!*
Dear Reader, we have a number of owls at the LoL…
OWL One
None of our owls have names. This fella came from the Packer side of the family. It used to be a table lamp; I’m not sure if Grandad bought it or was given it by German POWs in WW2 – he was Captain of a camp in Egypt and was given lots of carvings by prisoners who appreciated his fair and even-handed treatment. But it hasn’t cast light in a long time…
OWL 2 (and friend)
I don’t know where these guys came from, but they look down on me in the Library every day.
OWLS 3
I remember exactly when these fellas arrived. It was the day the boys broke up from school for Christmas. Thoughtful Man and I were waiting in the playground to collect them. Thoughtful Man had gone off with Kit Kat (who was always first out) for a chat with one of the other dads. I was standing aside, stamping my feet and blow out pretend smoke with my frozen, crystalised breath.
Suddenly I spotted Loops’, smiling from ear to ear, rushing toward me. He looked so excited. Then I saw his puffing, red face teacher, plodding along on behind. She was laden with… OMG, what the fuck was she carrying and why is she mouthing ‘I’m so sorry’ in my direction?!
“Mummy! I got you a Christmas present!” Loopy exclaimed, wrapping his little arms around my waist. “Owls!”
*******
*Brilliant! Finished it at last, Clicky… /yawn… I think I’ll slip off to bed for a recharge… Give Dear Reader a Song, please…*
“We do not believe any group of men adequate enough or wise enough to operate without scrutiny or without criticism. We know that the only way to avoid error is to detect it, that the only way to detect it is to be free to inquire. We know that in secrecy error undetected will flourish and subvert”. - J Robert Oppenheimer.
I AM the SynchroMiss planted on Earth, here to share my downloads, intel, and code-cracking, integrating the art of synchronicity as we transition to a higher state of consciousness and awareness.
Library of Libraries 